Scarred Trust
by Vivien Lestrange
Summary: AU: After his OWL-exams, Harry remembers the two-way mirror in time and doesn't fall for Voldemort's trap. Found ill by a concerned friend, Harry embarks on a journey that makes him discover some shocking truths about his scar and about his mentor, Albus Dumbledore. Very grey Dumbledore but no bashing of anyone.
1. Chapter 1 The Mirror

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related. No copyrights infringement is intended and no money being made with this story.

**AN**: Harry discovering the two-way mirror after Sirius' death was one of the most tragic parts of the books for me. With Sirius being one of my favourite characters, I have been wondering how things might have gone if Harry hadn't forgotten about it.  
The parts in italics in this chapter are taken directly from OotP.

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**Chapter 1 The Mirror**

_He wheeled around and strode blindly from the hospital wing into the teeming corridor where he stood, buffeted by the crowd, panic expanding inside him like poison gas so that his head swam and he could not think what to do... _Harry was certain that it hadn't been a normal dream. This had come from Voldemort, he really had Sirius. Voldemort had Sirius and Professor McGonagall was at Saint Mungo's. No Order member was at Hogwarts where he could contact them.

The words "contact" and "Order" set something into motion in Harry's mind. Sirius had given him a package when he had left Grimmauld Place, "to let Sirius know if Snape was giving Harry a hard time." It had to contain some means of contacting Sirius at Grimmauld Place, a safe way to do this while Umbridge was around.

Maybe he would be able to contact another Order member staying at headquarters this way. He needed any help he could get if he wanted to save Sirius. This was Voldemort and his Death Eaters probably weren't far either.

Harry's heart was beating violently fast. He wanted to run towards Gryffindor tower but he knew he'd only attract attention. The last thing he needed now was Umbridge intercepting him.

At the top of the marble staircase, he ran into Ron and Hermione. _"Harry!" said Hermione at once, looking very frightened. "What happened? Are you alright? Are you ill?"_

"_Where have you been?" demanded Ron._

"Hospital wing. I'm fine, thanks," Harry said quickly. "Madam Pomfrey told me to lie down for a while."

"You're sure, mate?" Ron asked. "You don't really look it you know."

"I'm fine," Harry repeated. His voice sounded extremely agitated but he didn't want to waste any more time and he didn't want to tell anyone. Not yet. There was no time to waste. They couldn't do anything at the moment.

"Well, Seamus wanted to get some food from the kitchen," Ron said. "We're having a party by the lake. Celebrating that it's over. You're sure you don't want to join us?"

"Yes, I simply need some rest. Alright?" Harry said.

Hermione gave him a doubtful look but she said nothing.

"Maybe you can come down later," Ron suggested.

"Maybe," Harry said. If he didn't manage to reach Sirius, he'd need their help. This way he knew where he would find them.

Ron and Hermione turned away to walk further downstairs while Harry made his way up to the tower.

The fifth-year dormitory was completely empty. Harry sighed with relief. He drew the curtains around his four-poster bed if someone decided to come in after all and withdrew the package from his trunk. With shaking hands, he tore the parchment open. There was a small mirror with a scribbled note. Harry picked it up and read:

„_This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other one of the pair. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions."_

This was it.

"Sirius," Harry said, his voice shaking horribly.

Nothing happened. Harry's heart clenched in fear. Sirius wasn't there of course and there was no one else either. He repeated the name a few times, more loudly now.

The mirror began to glow in a faint light. A few moments later, Sirius' face appeared. Harry stared at him, almost unable to believe it was really him. Sirius pulled his hair out of his face; the gesture reminded Harry of the meeting in the fireplace after he had seen Snape's memory.

"Sirius, is that really you?"

"Yes, surely. Harry, what's the matter? You're as pale as a sheet."

Harry felt immensely relieved as he heard his godfather's familiar voice.

"Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm at headquarters, everything alright," Sirius said soothingly. "What's wrong?"

"It's just, during History of Magic exam, I, well, I fell asleep sort of and I had this vision. Voldemort had captured you."

Harry didn't tell him of the torture.

There was a very worried expression on Sirius' face now. "I haven't left the house at all. Like Dumbledore ordered me to."

Harry noticed a distinct hint of bitterness in his voice. "Voldemort must have sent you this vision to lure you into a trap. Dumbledore feared he might try something like that. That's why you were supposed to learn Occlumency. Snape didn't resume those lessons, did he?"

Harry shook his head. Snape's Occlumency lessons were among the last things he cared about right now. Sirius was fine and alive, that was what mattered. Harry was very glad that he hadn't told anyone else now. He would only have worried them for no reason. Maybe they'd really think he was insane if they had seen him panic like that from a mere vision.

"I will have words with Snape about that!" Sirius exclaimed. "So much depends on this. But he probably doesn't really care anyway. I don't understand why Dumbledore trusts him."

"You're not alone there," Harry said. "I'm so happy you're alright. Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm really glad I gave you this two-way mirror. I don't want to imagine what might have happened otherwise. He could have killed you."

The thought made him shudder. Harry felt touched by his godfather's concern. Having adults actually care was a nice feeling. One he wasn't used to.

Sirius tried to move the conversation to lighter matters: "By the way, how did your exams go?"

"Well, I probably failed History. Defence Against the Dark Arts was brilliant." Harry grinned at the memory. "You should have seen Umbridge's face when I performed all those spells in front of her."

Sirius smiled as well but his anger at Snape and his worry were still clearly visible on his face.

"The rest was alright too I think."

"I'm glad to hear it," Sirius said. "I'm sorry but I really need to try and contact Dumbledore now. Try to relax and celebrate. You deserve it. I'll see you soon I'm sure. You can tell me about everything that's happened at Hogwarts then."

Harry lay down on his bed. Now that his blind panic had vanished and he knew Sirius was alright, he felt extremely tired. So Voldemort had truly tried to lure him into a trap. It wasn't really surprising given what he knew about Voldemort. He had tried the same thing with Ginny back in his second year after all. Back then, Ginny had truly needed Harry's help though. He was intensely relieved that he had thought of the mirror.

Harry's eyes fell shut. At first, he slept normally but soon the scenery changed. He was standing in a dark room; a hooded man kneeled in front of him. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and Harry could see grey eyes and some pale blond hair. More hooded figures were standing around them.

"Master, I'm sorry. It went wrong. He didn't turn up," the man said, his voice shaking.

"You should have waited longer," Harry said, his voice unnaturally high and cold. Anger seeped through every vein in his body. How could his plan have failed like this? He had been so certain that the foolish boy would run right away to safe the man he supposedly cared for so much.

"We couldn't. The Aurors arrived. We had to flee or we would all have been captured. Master, I'm so sorry. They got Nott, Avery and Jugson."

"You have failed me Lucius. You have failed me again," Harry said. "This deserves to be punished."

One of the other hooded figures looked at him, an eager glint in her dark eyes. Her anticipation was tangible. Harry smiled despite of his fury. Bella's anger at those traitors was exquisite to behold.

"Crucio!" he hissed. Lucius began to scream deafeningly. For a moment, Harry looked in Bella's direction and caught the delight in her features. She would receive a "punishment" of a different kind later on, without the others watching. First, Lucius needed to pay. He wasn't done with him yet, not for a long time. Lucius would leave this room in a state that kept Rodolphus busy for the night.

"Harry, Harry," an agitated voice called.

Someone was shaking him. Harry withdrew in shock. He opened his eyes.

"Calm down, Harry."

He didn't recognise the voice right away. When he looked at the person, he saw that it was Neville. What was he doing here? The memories of Voldemort's thoughts concerning Bellatrix Lestrange came swarming back into Harry's mind.

Having felt those things made him feel so dirty. Bile rose in his stomach and vomited right over his sheets.

"Evanesco," Neville said calmly. He didn't seem to be disgusted by the sight at all. Harry's sheets were clean once more.

"Good that I finally learned this one for the exams," Neville said.

Harry's scar was hurting so badly his eyes started to water. He was barely able to look at Neville. Ron seeing him in this state would have been embarrassing enough but Neville?

"How are you feeling?" the other boy asked.

"Great", Harry responded sarcastically.

"Yeah well, I'm sorry. Stupid question. Couldn't Madam Pomfrey give you anything against this?"

"No, she couldn't." Harry shook his head which made his scar hurt even worse. He clutched his hand around it. He wasn't going to tell Neville that he hadn't even told her about it. This was something she couldn't do anything about. He knew that.

"It looked really, really bad," Neville said. "You were having convulsions and I'm quite sure there was some dark magic involved as well."

Harry sighed. "Don't worry, it's my scar. Dumbledore knows about it."

He wasn't going to tell Neville about his failed attempt to study Occlumency or of the visions from Voldemort's mind he received of course.

"I don't like this," Neville said. "Did you ever consider going to Saint Mungo's?"

"No, I didn't!" Harry responded, anger rising inside him. "I'm not mad!"

Malfoy and other idiots making fun of him because of this was bad enough. Now Neville as well? Why couldn't he simply have stayed away with the others?

"No one says you're mad," Neville said. "You're obviously ill though. Saint Mungo's has Healers who are specifically trained to deal with injuries caused by dark magic. Maybe they can help you."

"I doubt it," Harry said. "I'm sure they're not trained in dealing with people who have survived the killing curse. I'm the first person this has happened to if I really need to remind you of that."

"I know that," Neville said. "But all those Unforgivable curses have things in common. Other than being banned by the Ministry I mean. Did you ever have your magic patterns checked at all?"

"My what?"

"I thought so," Neville said. "Did Dumbledore take you to Saint Mungo's after you've been attacked as a child?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Harry said.

Harry's head was aching so badly he didn't really feel like talking any longer.

"I don't understand this," Neville said seemingly not noticing how Harry was feeling.

"Dumbledore has probably had his reasons," Harry said. "We don't know if we can trust those Healers at all. Maybe they're working for Voldemort." He didn't feel sorry when Neville flinched at the name. "Or for Fudge. Who knows, maybe Malfoy's telling the truth and they'd really keep me there to stop me from telling anyone that Voldemort's back."

"That's rubbish," Neville said. This time, he didn't flinch.

Harry was very surprised. Neville rarely ever spoke like this, especially not to him.

"I know more about Saint Mungo's than Malfoy does, believe me. The Healers aren't working for the Ministry. They're independent and they've sworn an oath to do what is best for their patients. And they're taking this damn seriously. They will do their best to help you. They only take the best at Saint Mungo's. No job requires such good marks in so many subjects."

Harry remembered Ron looking at the Saint Mungo's leaflet and complaining about this. Great marks or not, Harry still doubted that the Healers would be able to help him with his specific problem.

On the other hand, Dumbledore had done nothing for him at all this year. He had avoided him all the time and didn't seem to believe he was able to cope with anything. And he had told Snape of all people to teach Harry a form of magic that involved Snape reading his mind.

Harry definitely didn't want this to continue and no one at Hogwarts seemed to be able or willing to help. Voldemort would almost have succeeded in luring him to his death. If he hadn't had this mirror, he would probably have gone to save Sirius. If the second vision was true, he would have run into a bunch of Death Eaters in this case.

He still didn't trust them though. "What about Bode? Someone brought a plant into his ward that killed him. The "brilliant" Healer didn't recognise it."

"Yes, that's a horrible thing," Neville said sadly. "I'm really blaming myself for this too. I've seen this plant and I have read about Devil's Snare. I knew that something was off about it but I simply couldn't tell what. I think a charm has been placed on it to make in unrecognisable until it's too late."

That wasn't unlikely, Harry though. He, Ron and Hermione hadn't recognised the plant either even though they had actually been caught by a Devil's Snare before.

"Well, maybe you're right," Harry conceded. If Dumbledore and the other Order members didn't want to help him, he needed to try to look for help somewhere else. It couldn't go on like this. "I think I'll do it. But how do I get there?"

"You could simply come with us," Neville said eagerly. "I'll ask Gran but I don't think she'll have any objections. We fetch you from the station and go with you. Then we can make sure that everything's alright and that you get the best Healers. Gran's really well-known there."

This would mean that he didn't go to the Dursleys, Harry thought. He didn't mind the idea at all but he knew he was supposed to go. Still, no one could make him. Dumbledore would understand that he needed medical aid.

"That would be really nice of you," Harry said. "But please don't tell anyone. I don't want them to talk."

"Yes, of course," Neville said. "I promise. Not everyone understands about something like this."

Harry hoped that the other Gryffindor would keep to this promise.

In the course of the next days, other things gripped the Hogwarts students' attention. The capture of the three Death Eaters Avery, Nott and Jugson after a break-in at the Ministry made the headlines in the Daily Prophet. Jugson was one of the escapees from Azkaban while the other two men had been previously cleared after claiming to have acted under the Imperius curse. The Ministry was forced to hold new trials for them and all three of them confessed under Veritaserum that they were really Death Eaters and that Voldemort had indeed returned and ordered them to break into the Ministry where Harry Potter was supposed to be waiting for them. Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt who had been in charge of the investigation informed the press about this development.

This piece of information was met with shock by many students. Quite a few of them apologised to Harry. Hermione urged him to be polite to those who did but he couldn't forgive them so easily. They had considered him a liar all year. Only now when they Daily Prophet finally printed the truth did they come around.

Draco Malfoy's Slytherin classmate Theodore Nott was shunned and avoided by students from other houses and many Slytherins as well. Malfoy himself seemed to be much less boastful than usual. He probably knew that it was only a matter of time until the captured Death Eaters informed the Ministry about his father's involvement.

Minister Fudge publicly apologised and rumours spread that he probably wouldn't remain in office for long. Harry really hoped that they would get rid of Umbridge and her Educational Degrees as well when Fudge was gone. She had become very quiet and subdued. There were no more detentions from her at the moment.

Harry soon received a letter from Neville's grandmother Augusta Longbottom, telling him that she would be delighted to have Harry visit and arrange for the best possible treatment for him. He informed the Dursleys that he would stay at a friend's place right away. They would probably be shocked when they received an owl with a letter but his sympathy was limited. He didn't want them to worry or search for him if he didn't turn up even though he wasn't sure if they would do anything like that.

Harry didn't suffer from any more visions during the following days even though his scar hurt from time to time and he also felt some twinges of emotion from Voldemort's side. Most of the time anger and frustration. He obviously wasn't happy about the way things had unfolded for him at all.

Ron meanwhile was extremely happy about the free time and the end of the exams. "I'm really looking forward to the summer. And I hope they'll sack Umbridge. It's only a matter of time until they get rid of Fudge. He seems to be very meek at the moment, Dad wrote me. Lots of people complain about his way of dealing with the situation now. Obviously found the courage to do this now that he's losing power." He snorted. "Cowards."

"How will the new Minister be chosen?" Hermione asked.

"Well, there'll be an election. The Wizengamot suggests suitable candidates and all witches and wizards who are of age can vote then. Well, all who aren't prisoners or anything."

Harry thought of Sirius. His godfather wouldn't be allowed a vote but that probably was one of his minor worries. Harry really wondered how long Dumbledore would keep him holed up at Grimmauld Place, subject to Snape's taunts.

"And how do you get onto the Wizengamot?" Hermione asked. "There are no elections for that, are there?"

"Well, you get in for contributions to wizarding society," Ron said. "The old members make suggestions and decide who's accepted and they can vote someone out as well. That's the theory. In fact, those "contributions" are often enough nothing but money. That's why someone like Malfoy's father has a seat there and his father had one before him. Some people are really in there because they've done much for society though. Madam Marchbanks, the examiner for example. She must have examined almost every living witch and wizard in Britain."

The free week after the exams passed really quickly. Harry wasn't sure if he was looking forward to the holidays or not. He felt bad about keeping his true plans from Ron and Hermione but he didn't want to face Ron's reaction when Harry told him he went to Saint Mungo's. He hoped they wouldn't be too angry when they found out, if they found out. He wasn't completely sure if he was doing the right thing himself but now, arrangements with Neville's Gran had been made and cancelling them would be rather offensive.

Gryffindor had won the House Cup once more which made Ron extremely happy. His efforts at the last Quidditch match had contributed to this enormously. The look on Umbridge's face when she was forced to announce this gave Harry a very satisfied feeling. Professor McGonagall had returned as well. She still needed a walking stick but seemed relatively well apart from that. She applauded almost as loudly as the students when Umbridge had to inform them that Gryffindor had won.

Harry still missed Dumbledore's speech though. At least, Umbridge limited her speaking time to a minimum. She probably knew just like Fudge did that her time of power was approaching its end. She did not mention the captured Death Eater and the information they had revealed.

On the train, Harry shared his compartment with Ron and Hermione as well as Neville, Ginny and Luna. After laughing about Umbridge telling everyone that Gryffindor had won the House Cup for a while, the conversation approached the new Minister of Magic once more.

"Amelia Bones would be great," Ron said and Harry had to agree. She had been very fair at the trial and her niece Susan was a member of the DA.

"I think Scrimgeour's a likely candidate," Neville said. "He's the Head of the Auror Office at the moment. He's rather competent too but he was criticised for his cruel treatment of Death Eater suspects under Crouch."

"Well, who cares?" Ron asked. "If someone deserves it, it's them."

"Yes, but torturing someone into admitting crimes they've never committed isn't very helpful you know," Neville said. "Innocent people can go to jail this way and the guilty ones can cause more trouble."

"Neville's right," Hermione said. "Torture's never acceptable."

"Just wait, next year, Hermione will start a new organisation. "Society for the Promotion of Death Eater Welfare." SPDW," Ron said.

Hermione hit him over the head with her copy of the Daily Prophet. "Of course not. But everyone deserves to be treated fairly, no matter what they've done."

"You're one to talk," Ron said. "Look at Marietta's face."

This shut Hermione up.

Harry did think she had a point though. Crouch's methods had led to Sirius being stuck in Azkaban for twelve years. If he had been given a fair trial and questioned with Veritaserum like Kingsley was doing it now, this would never have happened.

As the train approached London, Harry started to worry about other things. He hadn't met Mrs Longbottom often but every time he had met her, she had seemed very strict and formidable. He tried to get his hair to lie flat various times but of course, these attempts were futile. He simply had to hope she wouldn't mind too much.

"We'll write to you as soon as we can," Ron promised. "Mum's already promised that she'll let you stay again."

Neville looked at Harry questioningly but he shook his head slightly. He didn't want to tell them now, though he would have to do so before the Weasleys were coming to fetch him. The first thing on his schedule was Saint Mungo's.


	2. Chapter 2 Longbottom House

**AN:** Thank you very much to everyone who's commented on this story and to everyone who's followed/favourited. Here's the next chapter, I hope you'll enjoy.

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**Chapter 2 **

**Longbottom House **

Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione who promised him that they would see each other again soon.

"You have to write to us if the Muggles are giving you a hard time," Ron said.

Harry felt rather guilty at that. By now, he regretted that he hadn't told them about his real plans but now it was too late. He'd have to do it later during the holidays. Harry exchanged a few words with Mrs Weasley who also told him she would keep in touch before leading her children through the barrier to the Muggle part of the station. The owls would find him wherever he was and he'd have to find a way to explain it when they time came.

Now he looked for Neville and Mrs Longbottom. The latter wasn't hard to make out among the people waiting on the platform. She wore her vulture hat once again. The elderly witch was chatting with another woman Harry didn't know. Neville stood next to them, looking rather depressed. Harry thought that she probably made unfavourable comparisons between him and his father again.

When she saw Harry, Mrs Longbottom's expression softened slightly. She offered her hand and said: "I'm glad that you've decided to visit us, Harry. Charlotte, this is Harry Potter. Harry, Charlotte Frobisher."

Mrs Frobisher's daughter Vicky gave Harry a slight smile. She had been considered for the Gryffindor Quidditch team but Angelina had decided against her because she had too many other extracurricular activities.

"Madam Frobisher works at a Healer at Saint Mungo Hospital," Mrs Longbottom explained.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said wondering if she would be responsible for his treatment. He really didn't want everyone in Gryffindor to know. He noticed that she didn't stare at the lightning scar on his forehead like almost everyone else did when he met them for the first time.

The two witches exchanged a few more pleasantries before Mrs Longbottom beckoned the boys to follow her. The elderly witch owned a car that would have impressed Uncle Vernon. Mrs Longbottom's unconventional clothing probably would have destroyed this impression though. The car was adorned with a rather unusual coat of arms with an apple tree branch wound around a sword on it.

Like the cars the Weasleys had used in the past, Mrs Longbottom's also had a few magical enhancements. The traffic lights just happened to turn green when they approached and if there was a traffic jam, the car somehow managed to reach the front of it. Thus, the journey went much more smoothly than the ones Harry remembered from his time with the Dursleys. Unlike Uncle Vernon, Mrs Longbottom didn't curse or insult other drivers either.

She brought her car to a halt on a country lane. Harry couldn't see anything but fields, trees and a small hut overgrown with bramble.

"Our home is sheltered by a variety of protective spells and wards," Mrs Longbottom explained. Harry had assumed something along those lines. Number 12 Grimmauld Place wasn't visible if you didn't know it was there either. "Our family has always fought against dark forces and we've always been threatened by them. The Potter family has been traditionally allied to ours however. That means, allowing you entrance won't be very difficult. The spells will need a drop of your blood though."

The idea of magic related to blood seemed rather dark to Harry but he believed that Neville's grandmother who had brought up a son to fight for the Order and a grandson to become a member of the DA wouldn't do anything bad.

"Alright," he said.

Mrs Longbottom used a quick spell that caused a very small wound. A drop of Harry's blood fell to the ground and the wound closed again. Mrs Longbottom spoke a series of incantations Harry didn't know and drew some symbols into the air with her wand, runes maybe. When the process was completed, something astonishing happened.

Where the hut and bramble had been, a stone wall overgrown with ivy appeared. Behind it, Harry could see a large garden and a house with many gables. There were blackthorn bushes behind the wall but they were carefully groomed and laden with big berries.

The flower patches and the immaculate lawn would have pleased Aunt Petunia. Harry wasn't sure if he liked it very much.

"If you want to avoid this fuss, you can come here by Floo," Neville whispered to Harry. He thought that this made the elaborate protections rather futile.

They entered the house which was completely quiet.

"Welcome to our home," Mrs Longbottom said.

Harry wasn't sure how to respond properly. "Thank you for inviting me," he said.

"It's an honour," Mrs Longbottom said. "Sandy."

To Harry's surprise, a House Elf arrived and Mrs Longbottom ordered her to take the boys' things to their rooms. He had never thought someone like Neville would live in a place that had a House Elf. He gave Harry a slightly embarrassed look. Harry shrugged. Hermione wouldn't like this but there was no need to tell her.

He looked around the hall and noticed something on the wall. What he had taken for floral wallpaper at first glance was in fact a family tree not unlike the one he had seen at Grimmauld Place. This one wasn't a tapestry but the wall had been painted with something that looked like branching green vines. "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom," was written above them. "Courage, Decency and Honour."

"Maybe you can show Harry to the guestroom, Neville," Mrs Longbottom said. "Sandy will have dinner ready in about an hour."

"Yes, Gran," Neville said.

Harry still looked at the family tree. He didn't want to ask too many questions in front of Mrs Longbottom but now that she was gone, his curiosity got the better of him. "You're a "Noble and Most Ancient House" too? What does that mean?"

"Oh that? Sounds rather arrogant, I know. It means that we have magical ancestors who have lived here before the times of the Norman Conquest," Neville said. "Our ancestors wanted to make clear to them that they were here first. The Normans ruled the Muggles you see but they couldn't take over Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world. It doesn't really matter anymore nowadays. Some people claim it means they have purer blood than others but it doesn't. Back then, the idea that "pure-blood" was important didn't really exist."

Harry was sure that the Blacks had interpreted their title like this.

"In the past, marriages between old-blood and Normans were frowned upon but that's long since been given up. A lack of Muggle ancestors is what matters to people who care about this kind of thing now. All the pure-bloods who've fought for the Order are old-blood though while there are lots of Norman-blooded Death Eaters. When you told me back in our first year that I'm worth twelve Malfoys this meant more than you thought."

Harry remembered this incident. He had only thought about houses and character of course. The idea that Malfoy might feel insulted because of his ancestry didn't bother him though. He did this all the time to others.

"I didn't know anything about this," Harry said. "This is the kind of stuff they should teach us in History of Magic."

Neville nodded. "Gran will be happy to hear you say that. They're upset that they don't tell us the important stuff because they don't want to "stir animosity among the students." Keeping the truth secret isn't a good thing but very popular with our Ministry as we've learned this year."

"Very true," Harry said.

They went upstairs. The walls weren't decorated with snakes or severed House Elf heads but with medals, orders and certificates detailing the great deeds of past Longbottoms. One of the wooden stairs creaked. Harry flinched slightly. Something about this house made him feel obliged to be as quiet as possible. The difference to the warm and lively Burrow couldn't be more pronounced. Harry knew where he preferred to stay. He hoped things wouldn't take too long at Saint Mungo's.

The guest room was larger than Dudley's bedroom and had a window facing the back garden where different kinds of fruit tree stood. The walls were bare safe for a small tapestry and a painting of a flower vase. A faint scent of perfume mixed with the smell of rarely used rooms hang in the air.. The entire room seemed to be more suitable for an old lady.

Neville seemed to guess what Harry was thinking. "Well, I know. Usually, there are friends of my Gran's staying here. I don't get visitors too often. Would you like to see my room?"

"Yes, that would be nice," Harry said. "Do you know when we'll be able to go to Saint Mungo's?"

"Tomorrow," Neville said. "Harry Potter gets an appointment quickly. You're a unique case and that makes all the Healers curious of course. No one has worked with a Killing curse survivor so far."

This made Harry very uncomfortable. He didn't want to be gaped at by all the Healers and he didn't like the idea of featuring as a case study in healing journals either. Harry took a deep breath. He should have expected this. Dumbledore probably had had his reasons why he had never taken him to Saint Mungo's.

Neville's room was on the opposite side of the corridor. He kept a variety of room plants which didn't surprise Harry. The Mimbulus Mimbletonia stood on his bedside table. It had grown considerably in the course of the year. Neville had a cosy-looking couch where they sat down. Books and magazines were strewn across the small table beside it.

Neville blushed slightly. "Yeah, I know. I should have tidied up but I didn't know I'd have a visitor when I left for Hogwarts.."

"No problem," Harry said. He actually felt relieved that Neville's room looked lively and not like an old museum, an impression he had gotten from the rest of the house. Neville had two shelves full of books. One of them held plant books, the other more surprisingly books about healing magic. One board contained books with illustrious titles such as "The Art of Pain." Neville saw what Harry was looking it. "I'm not interested in using the curse of course," he was quick to assure him. "It's just, simply closing your eyes and pretending that something doesn't exist because it's unpleasant doesn't help anyone."

"Yes, of course," Harry said. It hadn't occurred to him that Neville might be interested in practicing dark magic. Maybe he hoped to find a way to help his parents.

"Please don't mention those at Hogwarts though. There are a few dirty books."

"Dirty books?"

"Ones that would end up in the Restricted Section."

"Yes, of course. I won't tell anyone," Harry said.

"I'll go to Saint Mungo's as well tomorrow," Neville said.

"Are you going to visit your parents?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but that's not the only reason. I'm going to work there as a volunteer for the next four weeks."

"Really? I didn't know that was possible." Harry didn't really know much about Saint Mungo's at all. "What are you going to do? And who can apply for this?"

"Well, I'm going to help with some of the easier tasks that can be done without magic. Bringing food to patients or potions the Healers have prepared, keeping them company, clean the wards where magic can't be used, this kind of thing. They need some relief."

To Harry, this sounded almost like the kind of detention they sometimes had to serve with Madam Pomfrey.

"Everyone who has sat their OWLs can apply but it's mostly Hogwarts students and some bored pure-bloods who don't need to work but want to give something back. If students do well, they get a credit if they apply to be Healers. Gives them a chance if the marks aren't that good." He shrugged. "If you can't even make it into NEWT-level Potions, it's no use of course. They need all the help they can get though especially now. Saint Mungo's is always understaffed."

Harry hadn't known that Neville wanted to be a Healer. He wasn't going to put it that bluntly but remembering all the accidents his magic had caused, he thought it wasn't the best idea. He remembered Lockhart and the vanished bones in his arm only too well.

"You never mentioned that you wanted to be a Healer."

"Of course not. I didn't even tell Professor McGonagall in career's advice. I can do without pitying looks."

Neville didn't seem to be too happy that Harry had picked up on this. He tried to say something encouraging. "You're really good in Herbology. Maybe you can grow healing herbs or something. I won't be able to become an Auror because of Potions either. The exam wasn't that bad but I can't imagine I'll get an O."

"Yeah, I probably do that. The Herbology thing," Neville said. "And you really want to be an Auror? Gran will be even more taken with you if you tell her."

Harry wondered if he was jealous. Maybe, Mrs Longbottom also made unflattering comparisons between him and Neville. He wouldn't put it past her.

"Sorry, they just keep going on and on about how I should become one too," Neville said. "But I'm simply not the kind of person for this. Would you really want to fight taking orders from people like Fudge and Umbridge? Aurors have to obey, if they like the tasks they're set or not."

Harry had to admit that he hadn't really thought much about this. He wanted to fight Voldemort because he had killed his parents and obviously still tried get to him. Taking down a few of his supporters in the process seemed like a good thing as well and so did the elite training of the Aurors.

"You could take a look at my parents' books from training," Neville said. "Dad's made lots of notes. Maybe it will come in handy for you."

"I'm sure this would be interesting," Harry said. "If you don't mind showing me."

"No, of course not. I can show you right now if you want to. They're in our library."

There was a tapping noise at the window. Harry looked up. A tawny owl outside tried to get their attention. The bird made Harry think of Hedwig. He needed to ask where the House Elf Sandy had put her and her cage.

Neville got up. "Let's see what we've got here." He opened the window and the owl flew inside. It approached Neville and stretched out its leg.

Harry looked at the copy of the Healing Magic Magazine lying on Neville's table. He wasn't interested in Neville's private mail.

"This is really strange," Neville said. "The letter is addressed to me but there's no sender on it."

"Do you expect any mail?" Harry asked.

"Not really. And I don't recognise the handwriting. Look."

The anonymous sender had an elaborate handwriting. The letters were rather uneven as if he were too clumsy to write really neatly.

"I don't know if you should open it," Harry said. In the Muggle world, there were letter bombs and similar, he remembered one of those cases from his time with the Dursleys. It was likely that wizards could curse letters or send something dangerous.

Neville hesitated. "Any idea how we could find out?"

Harry shook his head. Recognising cursed objects would be a really useful skill to learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts but no one had taught it to them yet. "Maybe you should show it to your grandmother," he suggested.

Neville didn't look exactly thrilled at the prospect. "I rather wouldn't. I don't want her to go on about how I'm not even able to open my mail without help. She doesn't know that much about dark magic anyway. Great Uncle Algie would be better. Or Great Aunt Callidora. I wouldn't want to bother them either though."

"Well, then we can either open it or make the owl take it back," Harry said.

He wondered if Voldemort knew that he was at the Longbottom's. His scar hadn't hurt since he was there but that didn't have to mean anything. It wasn't happening all the time. Would the letter kill them both? Or take them to Voldemort?

"You know what? There are some curse-proof gloves in the artefact room. It should be safe with them," Neville suggested.

"Alright," Harry said. He hadn't heard of "curse-proof gloves" before but they sounded good. He could have sworn that the door to the artefact room hadn't been visible before. There was definitely magic at work in this house. The room contained various objects and weapons like swords and daggers. Harry wondered what wizards were doing with them. A few things were more obviously magical. He recognised a Pensieve not unlike the one Dumbledore owned.

Neville quickly found the gloves and tore the letter open. Nothing happened but Neville's expression darkened as he read and he shook his head.

"What is it? Who sent it?" Harry wanted to know.

"I don't know who sent it. The person didn't leave his name. I don't know what he wants. Threaten me?"

Seeing Harry's questioning look, Neville began to read:

"Dear Neville,

If you're anything like your father, you're probably not exactly a Potions prodigy. Your mother isn't the most talented potioneer alive either."

Neville's fists clenched as he read this aloud and he grimaced. Harry agreed that the anonymous letter writer was really tactless. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to refer to Neville's parents in past or present tense himself. Luckily, it hadn't been necessary so far.

"Still, you really should have a good look at the potions you're parents are receiving at Saint Mungo's. I hope you know _something_. If you don't, ask someone for help who does. Keep your eyes open and take care."

Neville looked at Harry. "That's it."

"He's implying that someone's trying to poison your parents," Harry said.

"Yeah. What do you think? A bad joke? Maybe a Death Eater who wants me to worry," Neville said.

Harry thought hard. "I'm not sure. There was something fishy going on at Saint Mungo's. Mr Bode has been murdered."

"Yes. Because he knew something that could harm the Death Eaters and he recovered," Neville said. "Not a likely reason in my parents' case."

Harry remained silent. He agreed that there wasn't a real reason to attack the permanently insane Longbottoms. He had seen Neville's mother on Christmas. She posed no threat to any Death Eater. Still, it wasn't impossible that they wanted to wipe the slate clean and finish them off completely.

"We should definitely be careful when we're there. You're going to volunteer there after all. Maybe you'll find something out this way. Did you get such letters before?"

Neville shook his head. "No. I would have known what it is in this case. Do you think I should keep it or destroy it?"

"Maybe you should show it to your grandmother," Harry said.

He wondered if the fact that he had decided to go to Saint Mungo's and the arrival of the mysterious letter had something to do with each other. He would definitely be very careful there. Neville might think that a Healer could do no wrong but Harry wasn't so sure.

Mrs Longbottom scolded the boys because they had opened the anonymous letter. "Better safe than sorry. It could have been cursed or poisoned or been turned into a Portkey or it could have put a compulsion charm on you or countless other nasty things. These are dangerous times, boys."

"We used the curse-proof gloves," Neville defended himself meekly.

"Yes, at least you thought of that," Mrs Longbottom said. "You definitely won't keep it though. It might carry a curse that doesn't show its effects right away. I'll light a cleansing fire to destroy it. Come with me, this could be helpful for you in the future."

They went back upstairs to the artefact room which also contained an unusually shaped oven. "This destroys or cleans objects that have been tampered with. Only few extremely powerful forms of dark magic can resist it and they're not to be spoken of lightly," Mrs Longbottom explained.

"Ignis Februus Efficio!" she said three times. Purple flames began to flicker inside. Mrs Longbottom moved the letter in by magic and kept it hovering above the fire until the door was closed. Then she let it drop. The flames ate it up within second, their colour didn't change.

"It seems to have been clean," Mrs Longbottom said. "Otherwise, the flames would have turned a different colour. Green or orange probably. Good, let's wash our hands and go down to dinner."

The food cooked by Sandy wasn't bad but Harry was so preoccupied with minding his table manners that he couldn't really enjoy it.

Neville and his grandmother began to speculate about the mysterious letter once more.

"It could be a bad joke from someone who wants to lower your morals. We can't be certain that it hasn't been written by someone who's truly seen something worrisome. If only he weren't such a coward and would tell us his name."

"I don't understand why anyone would want to harm Mum and Dad now," Neville said.

"Healer Shafiq once mentioned that a highly skilled Legilimens might still be able to get some information from their minds," Mrs Longbottom told them. "Seems to be an extremely time-consuming process but maybe the Death Eaters want to make sure it won't happen. Maybe not. It doesn't have to be related to the Death Eater at all. Not everything is. Some people believe in euthanasia. They think there are circumstances where easing the passage into death is preferable to the prolongation of life. The Healer's Oath forbids this and one woman has been dismissed and obliviated because she was caught attempting to poison incurable patients."

Neville paled visibly. "You've never told me about this."

"No, I didn't. Why worry you with something like this?"

Harry remembered Moody telling him "better dead than what happened to them" when he had shown him the Longbottoms on the old photograph of the Order. He felt like an intruder. Neville and his grandmother were in a situation he couldn't grasp and they probably weren't happy that he was there and listening to all of this.

Harry felt slightly ashamed for turning the conversation back to himself but Mrs Longbottom's opinion interested him. "Do you think Saint Mungo's is safe at all at the moment?"

The old woman didn't seem to be annoyed by the question.

"I completely trust Amir Shafiq and Hestia Jones. Shafiq is the Head Healer of the Spell Damage department and he's going to be the one who examines you. Jones used to work in Artefact Accidents and has been transferred to Spell Damage recently. She's close to Dumbledore as well."

Harry nodded. He had met Hestia Jones. She had been one of the Order members who had fetched him from the Dursleys the year before. No one had told him about her job.

"Charlotte Frobisher I trust as well. I'd have to lie if I told you I was certain about everyone else. The idea that only good and kind and gentle people are drawn to the healing arts is a popular misconception. Looking at some of the portraits at Saint Mungo's should be enough to teach people better but many still believe that. The oath exists for a reason. If everything goes well, you shouldn't have to rely much on the others though. I've requested discretion."

Harry thanked her. If this Shafiq kept his word, he might not have to deal with too much curiosity after all.

When they had finished, Mrs Longbottom turned on the wireless and they listened to the evening news. They weren't much different from their Muggle counterpart safe for the information about the magical world. This evening, they didn't contain anything that was new to Harry though.

"The Ministry still doesn't let the entire truth out. I can't believe that they've changed their entire policy because of a few Death Eaters' testimony," Mrs Longbottom said. "There must have been more. Other members of the Wizengamot agree but they're not telling us anything either at the moment."

Neville had never mentioned that his grandmother had a seat on this council as well. He didn't remember her from his hearing but that might have been because he had been quite nervous and she had worn different clothes there.

"Some members still claim he isn't really back and this is just a ploy by Shacklebolt. Umbridge and Malfoy mainly."

"Umbridge still doesn't believe it?" Harry asked. He probably shouldn't be surprised. This woman was beyond reason. Malfoy's motivation was clear.

"Umbridge claims that Jugson has put the other two others under the Imperius curse so they'd tell this story to create confusion. Malfoy meanwhile says that Shacklebolt might have tortured them into making fake confessions to back up Dumbledore."

"Kingsley would never do something like that. I don't believe this," Harry said. Nothing seemed to be too petty for those two.

"Fudge doesn't believe it either. The first reasonable thing from him this year. I still suspect he has more evidence than he lets out though."

"Maybe they guess that there are Death Eaters in the Wizengamot," Harry said. "Malfoy for example."

"I've read that you claim you've seen him with You-Know-Who," Mrs Longbottom said. "I believe you. I still remember how angry Frank and Alice were when they heard he'd be free." She shook her head. "People with a full Gringotts vault have seemingly never been Death Eaters. Believe it or not, they even let the Lestranges go off, "because they didn't have enough evidence." Frank and Alice were sure they were guilty but no one listened to them. If the Ministry had decided more wisely, Frank and Alice would be here with us tonight."

Harry swallowed. Knowing that a terrible fate could have been avoided so easily had to be really harsh.

"If someone's been disowned by his dark family like Sirius Black, they didn't ask many questions," Mrs Longbottom continued.

Harry's heart beat faster. He needed to be careful now. Neville and his grandmother didn't know the truth about Sirius.

"The evidence was overwhelming of course but Alice always doubted he was guilty. She kept trying to persuade Crouch to give him a trial or at least interrogate him properly. It was one of the last things she told me. Crouch must have started to relent. Than the attack happened and he had other worries, lost his position quickly."

Harry swallowed hard. So someone from the Order had still believed in Sirius and almost succeeded in having his case reviewed but she had been tortured to insanity before it could happen. He decided to tell Sirius at the next opportunity to talk in private. Harry wanted him to know that someone had still believed in him. She wasn't there anymore but maybe it would still be comforting in some way.

Before he could do that, Harry had to go through the appointment with Healer Shafiq the next day though. He hoped that Mrs Longbottom was right and he really was one of the trustworthy people at Saint Mungo's.


	3. Chapter 3 Healers and Volunteers

AN: Once again, thank you all for commenting, following and favouriting. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter.

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**Chapter 3**

**Healers and Volunteers**

"You should pack a few things," Mrs Longbottom told Harry after breakfast the next day. "They might want to keep you for a few days for supervision."

Harry thanked her for the advice. He didn't like this very much. Neville's parents might not be very interesting targets for the Death Eaters while at Saint Mungo's but he most definitely would be.

Neville's grandmother was able to guess what he was thinking. "They have a special ward for victims of dark magic who might still be in danger. It's guarded by Aurors since Sirius Black escaped Azkaban and there are various protective spells. Bode's not been there because his case was filed as a work accident. That's probably why they got him."

Harry nodded. So Fudge's behaviour had cost one life at least. Probably, it wouldn't be the last one.

Mrs Longbottom turned to her grandson and told him to behave and bring honour to his family. Harry wondered how he was supposed to do this with the kind of job he was going to do there but he kept these thoughts to himself. Instead, he excused himself and packed his trunk.

The Longbottoms travelled to Saint Mungo's via the Floo Network.

"Speak clearly," Mrs Longbottom told the boys. "Remember Violet Tillyman."

Harry had no idea who this might be but he didn't want to show his ignorance in front of Mrs Longbottom and ask. They all made it to the hospital without any trouble and Mrs Longbottom led Harry straight to the fourth floor.

The Janus Thickey-Ward seemed to be securely closed this time; Harry didn't come across Gilderoy Lockhart or any other patients on his way. He noticed two rather bored-looking Aurors engaged in a game of cards before the door of another ward. A female one had bright red hair similar to that of Mrs Weasley. Harry nervously pulled his fringe over his scar so they wouldn't recognize him. Knowing the wizarding world, she was probably related to the Weasleys and might inform them about Harry's presence here. He didn't want Ron to hear about it from someone else.

The examination room was located at the very end of the corridor next to a door labelled "Healers only." Mrs Longbottom knocked on the door without hesitation and a young wizard in lime-green robes opened the door. He greeted Mrs Longbottom and turned to Harry. "Good morning you must be Mr Potter. Summers my name, I'm trainee Healer and I'm going to assist Healer Shafiq. He will be here in a minute."

"Very well," Mrs Longbottom said. "I'll see you later, Harry."

Harry barely remembered that someone called Summers had been a Hufflepuff two years above him. He wondered if this was the same person. Summers couldn't be very far into his training if he was.

Healer Shafiq was an older wizard with greying dark hair and glasses. He shook hands with Harry. "Come in. I'm glad you've decided to come here. Dark magic injury should never be left unchecked even if the effects aren't visible right away."

Harry followed the two Healers into the examination room. There were a chair and a couch. Shafiq told Harry to sit down so he could inform him about the examinations he was going to do. "You're here for the first time, so I'll test if everything's alright with your body first. Some things I can tell by watching you, for others I will use spells. Don't worry, they're all perfectly safe. It's not like some of the methods Muggles use to make pictures from the inside of people's bodies. We did get inspired by them in some ways though, that's why we're making storable pictures now. Muggle knowledge and wizarding knowledge do influence each other, I'm sure you've noticed that in other places before. I'll also take samples of your blood and I'll do something Muggles do not need, I'll check your magic patterns."

Harry had to undress next while Shafiq examined his various body parts from the outside, Summers took notes. Harry felt slightly embarrassed by this; he wasn't used to other people seeing him without clothes. The two Healers were acting very professional about this though and his awkwardness diminished.

Shafiq cast various spells on him, for some of them; he didn't use his wand at all but touched parts of Harry's body or drew signs with his hands. Most of the time, he didn't speak the incantations aloud. Harry watched curiously. He had never seen magic used like this. Maybe they'd teach it in his more advanced classes at Hogwarts. Harry didn't feel most of the spells at all but some left slightly unpleasant sensations or created lights that hurt his eyes if he looked directly into them. An assortment of quills drew pictures or wrote down numbers on its own. Harry had no idea what they meant.

"You may put your clothes on again," Shafiq said after what seemed like an eternity to Harry. "Is it alright for you if we do the magic pattern after lunch break or do you wish to have everything in one go?"

"After lunch break," Harry said. He was tired of sitting or standing still in various positions.

"Alright. I'll see you in an hour then. You can get something to eat on the fifth floor," Shafiq said.

Harry went upstairs, feeling slightly dizzy from the various diagnostic spells he had been subjected to. Healing magic seemed like a difficult endeavour indeed. Maybe Neville would recognise this as well when he worked here. He didn't find his fellow Gryffindor and decided to really look for something to eat. They had pasta with tomato sauce there and it didn't taste bad though nowhere as good as the food he had grown used to at Hogwarts.

After lunch break, Shafiq said: "There's something I need to discuss with you before we proceed. Your hand bears scars in the shape of words. "I must not tell lies" if I'm not mistaken. These words seem to have been caused by a so-called "Blood Quill", an object forbidden safe for very few specific uses none of them involving minors. I assume that you didn't write these words on your own account, did you?"

Harry suppressed a sigh. He hadn't wanted to raise a fuss over this. Lying to protect Umbridge wasn't an opportunity either though.

"No, I did not."

"I thought so," Shafiq said. "You should not keep this kind of thing quiet."

Harry grimaced. The Healer made it sound as if he protected Umbridge on purpose. He didn't seem to understand that Harry simply didn't want to seem whiny.

"Being raised in the Muggle world, our world might look rather backwards to you sometimes." Shafiq said. "Maybe you believe that the magical community tolerates corporeal punishment. This isn't true. Abuse can have adverse effects on people's magic. That's one of the reason why the Cruciatus curse has been banned but there are also cases where simple Muggle violence caused permanent damage. That's why this has been strictly prohibited by wizarding authorities long before the Muggles thought of doing such a thing."

Harry shrugged. "That's nice but it's little use if the "authorities" are doing it themselves, isn't it?"

"That's what I've feared," Shafiq said. "I'll take the necessary steps. Our work as Healers isn't limited to providing counter spells and antidotes. It is our right and duty to make sure that the citizens' health is protected. I assume no one has told you about that either."

Harry shook his head. No one told them anything about the wizarding society at large. The things Harry knew, he knew from Ron or Sirius. He still wouldn't run complaining to Saint Mungo's if there wasn't something really serious going on. More trouble for Umbridge couldn't hurt though.

"This kind of scar can be treated but I think we should leave it for the moment in case we need the evidence," Shafiq said.

"Yes," Harry said. This sounded reasonable.

"We'll continue with your magic pattern now. This spell will show me if your magic has developed the way that's normal for a wizard your age or if there has been any disruption. Such disruptions can be caused by natural diseases especially of the feverish kind and also by magic from the outside. It may be dark but some spells that aren't classified as such can do damage too, Memory charms for example."

Harry thought that the only reason why Memory charms were legal probably was the fact that the Ministry needed them all the time. He had seen their harmful properties on Gilderoy Lockhart and had heard about it in the case of Bertha Jorkins.

"Most people don't feel anything when this spell is applied," Shafiq explained. "I can't promise that though. Victims of dark magic might suffer adverse side effects because their own magic rejects the Healer's. There's no need to worry. We're well trained to deal with that so you don't have to fear anything too unpleasant. People who work as Aurors for example need to have it done very frequently because they have lots of contact with dark magic."

"Alright," Harry said. He was used to all kinds of pain.

Harry could keep his clothes on, the spell seemingly worked through them. He had to sit down while Shafiq tapped various parts of his body with his wand, starting with Harry's feet. Harry felt nothing beyond a very faint tingling sensation as long as Shafiq was doing his legs, back and belly region. As soon as he reached Harry's head however, his scar burst into pain. Harry clasped his hand across his head before he could stop himself.

Shafiq paused immediately and the pain subsided slowly.

Shafiq made a note while the quill that had drawn odd patterns on a piece of parchment paused.

"I'll continue without a wand," he said. "The spell can be performed wandlessly but the results are more precise if a wand is used. The wandless version is gentler."

Harry gritted his teeth and they managed the two points at the back of his head and the one on his chin with bearable pain but when his forehead was reached, the pain became so intense Harry couldn't keep himself from crying out. Overwhelming dizziness followed the pain and the room seemed to spin around him.

From a very far distance, Harry heard Shafiq say: "Do you hear me?"

Harry swallowed hard. He tasted bile in his throat. "Yes," he managed to say. Slowly, the room came back into focus. His head still felt as if it might burst.

Shafiq handed him a glass: "This is called Goldberry Lead-Potion. It soothes pain and drives dark magic back."

Harry obediently drank the potion. The taste wasn't as foul as that of some of the concoctions he knew from the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. A bit like grass smelled.

The potion helped quickly. The headache became more bearable and Harry's heartbeat slowed down again.

Shafiq seemed to notice this without needing to ask. "We'll leave it at that for the moment. Someone suffering from the after effects of the Cruciatus curse or another well-known dark curse would receive a strong sedative potion but I don't want to risk this in your case. We don't know what would happen. I'm glad to see that it responds to Goldberry leaves though."

"What happened?" Harry wanted to know.

"Something inside of you strongly fought against the touch of my magic," Shafiq explained. "The most likely explanation is that it has to do with the trauma of having been hit with this curse."

Something about the look on the Healer's face told Harry that there were other, far more disturbing possible explanations. They probably had to do with the things concerning Voldemort Dumbledore had hinted at. Could it be that Voldemort was the one who fought against the healing spell? Harry rather didn't ask this. He didn't want to frighten Shafiq away.

The Healer asked him to describe the symptoms he experienced next. "We are sworn to confidentiality. No one will ever hear about this if you don't give us the permission to tell," he assured him.

After a short moment of deliberation, Harry chose to tell him about everything related to his scar. The Longbottoms trusted Shafiq and Harry wanted an explanation, an explanation Dumbledore wasn't prepared to give.

"Thank you for being so open with me, Mr Potter," Shafiq finally said. "I initially wanted you to go back with Augusta until we have interpreted the results but now I think it's better if you stay here where we can supervise your condition. Maybe one of those visions you've described will happen while you are here and we're able to tell exactly what's happening."

Harry sighed. "Mrs Longbottom said you might want to keep me here. For how long will this be? And I'd rather not have everyone know."

"Of course not," Shafiq quickly assured him. "The people responsible for you will be informed that they need to be discrete. I think one week should be reasonable. You will be free to leave whenever you want of course if you choose to do so. Saint Mungo's doesn't lock people up if it isn't necessary for safety reasons. This definitely isn't the case for you."

"Good," Harry said. "I think I'll do it then." He definitely wanted to know what was wrong and if that meant staying here for a while, he would do so.

"You will stay at Tacitus Gamp Ward for dark magic injuries," Shafiq said. "It's guarded by Aurors day and night. We won't inform them about your identity either if you don't want us to. The Healers in charge are Mr Stebbins together with Mr Summers here and myself. The volunteer is well past Hogwarts age as well so you won't be the subject of gossip."

"Alright," Harry said. "I'll have to do it, won't I?"

"You don't have to but it's advisable," Shafiq said.

Harry nodded. Staying at Saint Mungo's wasn't anyone's idea of ideal holidays but probably still better than being at the Dursleys'.

"Very well. You will need to wear a tag but we can do without your name. That's mainly important for people who don't remember who they are."  
In the past, Harry might have laughed at this remark. Now that he knew about the Longbottoms' fate, he wouldn't.

"There are barely visible skin patches as well. One of them will do nicely to keep your scar hidden while we don't need to examine it."

"Good," Harry said. Shafiq seemed to take his desire for being discreet into account.

"Please wait a moment while I have a quick word with Mr Latimer. He'll accompany you to your ward," Shafiq said. "I'll see you again when I have your results. I hope you have a beneficial stay here."

Mr Latimer turned out to be a middle-aged wizard. His dark hair looked similar to that of Sirius on the old photo of the original Order. He wore grey robes and a tag informing Harry that he was a volunteer like Neville. He had to belong to the category "bored pure-blood" Harry thought. Latimer was way too old to still be a Hogwarts student. Harry wasn't sure if he liked this. He didn't want people to gossip of course but in the case of fellow students who weren't Slytherins he could be reasonably sure that they weren't Death Eaters.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," Latimer said in a deep, smooth voice and introduced himself. "I'm supposed to do the paperwork with you and show you to your ward."

Harry nodded and began to fill out the forms Mr Latimer handed to him. Then he got up. The potion had worked well. His scar wasn't hurting anymore and his legs carried him properly again. He was glad about that. After his prior experiences with wizarding institutions and Neville's letter, Harry wanted to keep his senses together in here.

The two Aurors were still busy with their card game but they looked up as the two wizards approached the door of Ward 42. Latimer showed them a form from Shafiq and they let them pass.

Harry looked around. The ward resembled the one Mr Weasley had been in after Voldemort's snake had bitten him. The room was lit by large crystal bubbles and the walls were panelled with oak. Instead of a portrait of a vicious-looking wizard, there was one showing a beautiful witch with long dark curls. _Leda Fawley née Black, discoverer of the healing properties of Goldberry Weed_, the caption read. The witch smiled slightly at Harry and he thought she was nicer company than the wizards downstairs.

The living occupants of the room were a much less pleasant sight. One witch's hand had turned green and something tentacle-like was spreading up her arm from there. A wizard constantly lost blood from various wounds which was vanished by some spell as soon as it had left his body. A potion kept trickling into his body through the skin from a bottle above his bed. The curtains had been drawn around the beds of three other occupants and Harry wondered if their states were even more disturbing.

"You're going to sleep here," Latimer said, indicating an empty bed on the right side of the ward close to the door. Harry's trunk had already been brought there; he hoped the Longbottoms would care for Hedwig well. Owls weren't allowed at the hospital of course.

The occupant of the bed next to Harry's had no visible injuries. Harry could tell right away that something was seriously wrong with him though. His skin had an unhealthy greyish colour but the worst thing was this haunted yet completely unfocused look in his eyes.

"Mr Abercrombie has been subjected to the Cruciatus curse over a relatively long period of time," Mr Latimer told Harry. "We're not sure if he's going to recover or not. His state is very unstable at the moment. Every use of magic near him can be harmful. I have to ask you to draw the curtains around your bed if you want to perform magic. They'll shield you. Don't draw your wand in front of him except in an emergency, do you understand that?"

"Yes, I do," Harry said, quickly glancing into Abercrombie's direction. So the Death Eaters had found another victim. Harry wondered if the people who had tortured Neville's parents were responsible for this as well. He looked at the witch in the portrait. Her resemblance to the woman from Dumbledore's Pensieve was small but visible.

"If you need assistance, you can call me with the blue bell. If you ring the red one, the Healers will be informed directly. You can also do this if it's not you but someone else who requires help," Latimer said. "You have a quill and parchment here; please write down any kind of symptom you experience. This isn't the place for false pride, the Healers need to know exactly what happens, no matter how trivial it might seem. This is very important."

"Alright, I'll write everything down," Harry said. This was going to be one boring week. Watching the other patients in here would only make him depressed.

"Am I allowed to leave the ward while I'm here?"

"Yes, of course. You should inform someone if you wish to leave the house though," Latimer said. "People might get worried otherwise and there's enough work to do as it is.

"I'll do that then," Harry said. His Invisibility Cloak was at the bottom of his trunk just in case.

"Good, that's all for the moment. Dinner will be at five of clock," Latimer said and left the ward. Not knowing of anything else to do, Harry took one of his books from the trunk and began to read while he tried to ignore the disquieting noises some of the other patients were making.

About ten minutes before five, Neville arrived with a tray of food. He was dressed exactly like Latimer now.

"Hi Harry, how are you?"

"I'm alright, thanks. Are you helping with my ward now?"

Neville moved from one foot to the other. "Well, not exactly but I asked Mr Shafiq if I can bring your food because we know each other. He doesn't object. It's-" He looked around nervously.

"Well, I don't want Latimer to do it. I don't really trust him that much."

"Why?" Harry asked warily.

"I know it sounds ridiculous but my Mum doesn't seem to like him. When he brought her food, she threw it at the floor. Of course, I know she doesn't really know what's going on and she sometimes reacts badly to people for no reason and everything but still. Maybe she did notice something about him we others don't. She needed to be able to as an Auror."

Harry would have trusted Alice Longbottom's judgement in the past but given her current state, he had his doubts. Harry knew better than to tell Neville that though. He hadn't noticed anything suspicious about Latimer at all but if Neville brought his food, it would definitely be safer and he'd have someone to talk to and relieve his boredom. There was no reason to object.

Neville stayed with Harry while he ate his dinner and Harry asked him about his volunteer job. He seemed to be quite satisfied with it.

Latimer arrived with the food for the other patients of the ward at 5 pm. He was allowed to use magic and could bring all the six trays at once. Abercrombie had his tray brought to him the Muggle way. Latimer didn't seem to be surprised to see Neville in the ward, maybe someone had informed him.

"Hestia Jones has night duty," Neville whispered to Harry before he left. "That's good, you can trust her."

Harry went to bed relatively early but not as early as the rest of the patients in Ward 42. Most of them didn't seem to be able to leave their beds at all. Mr Abercrombie received a sleeping potion from a Healer Harry hadn't met yet, it had to be Stebbins.

Harry had trouble falling asleep as well. His scar hurt and he wasn't sure if he was safe. The curtains at least blocked the noises from the other patients out. They definitely wouldn't allow Harry to sleep.

His scar hurt slightly again and he wrote this down which made him feel awake once more. When he finally fell asleep, he was standing in the same room where Lucius Malfoy had been punished at the day of Harry's history exam.

"I'm sorry Master," the rat-like man said once again.

"Get out of my sight, Wormtail," Harry hissed and he man quickly backed away. "Rodolphus, you may come in."

A wizard of much more upright bearing walked into the room, Wormtail tried to get as much space between himself and his fellow Death Eater. Harry wasn't surprised. Rodolphus had been a big help in _persuading _Wormtail that he was better of serving him rather than the fool Dumbledore.

Rodolphus bowed and looked at Harry expectantly. "You wished to see me, Master."

"Did you succeed?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I did. The Muggle boy proved to be very cooperative. There was no need for coercion."

Harry caught a glimpse from Rodolphus' mind. He watched mildly interested as two Muggle boys were beating each other up in front of a jeering audience. Primitive, those Muggles. Unlike many of the others, Rodolphus would never make an unnecessary mess.

"Harry Potter has never arrived there. What Narcissa has witnessed seems to be correct. He's probably with the Longbottoms."

"I'm surprised. According to Severus, the Longbottom boy is rather useless and held in disdain by Potter."

"He attacked us with accidental magic while we were questioning his parents," Rodolphus said. "Only a reasonably talented pure-blood child could have done that at this age. Not every useless wizard needs to remain that forever."

"Be that as it may, looking for him there can't hurt. You'll inform Bella and Antonin." Rodolphus was highly talented in the gathering of information but only a mediocre duellist. He would be of little use there.

"Yes, Master. I'm not sure if you'll be able to get into the Longbottoms' ancestral home though."

Harry's eyes bored into his servant's. This was quite insolent. "You did so without trouble."

"They were foolishly residing in a Muggle house back then," Rodolphus said.

"I'm sure I'll be up to the challenge," Harry said. "You do not doubt my power, do you?"

"Of course not," Rodolphus was quick to assure him.

"Harry, Harry!" a female voice called.

He opened his eyes and looked around, trying to discern where he was. Then it all came back to him and also a sense of urgency. The woman in front of him wore a Healer's robes and had black hair and pink cheeks, Hestia Jones.

"Voldemort wants to attack the Longbottoms. Someone has to warn them."


	4. Chapter 4 Patients

**AN: **Once again, thank you for reviewing, favouriting and following. This chapter is about life at Saint Mungo's, Harry will get his diagnosis in the next one. In case you're wondering, I always type "Saint Mungo's" because the program swallows it if I don't for some reason.

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**Chapter 4**

**Patients**

"Did you have another vision?" Hestia Jones asked.

"Yes. Voldemort's after the Longbottoms. You have to believe me. We need to warn them," Harry repeated. There was no time to waste.

"Does your scar hurt or are you suffering from any other symptoms?" Jones asked.

Harry raised his voice in exasperation. "Yes, but that doesn't matter. We have to warn the Longbottoms."

Jones sighed. "Alright. I believe you. You've been right on Christmas too. I'll go and pass your warning on. We'll talk later. Try to remember what exactly you've experienced."

She left the ward and Harry hoped she would really inform the Longbottoms. The idea that he sat there in his bed while they were attacked because he had visited them was unbearable. The pain in his scar didn't matter to him at all at the moment.

About ten minutes later, Hestia Jones returned. Seeing Harry's agitated face, she drew the curtains around his bed and said: "You can calm down. I've spoken to Remus. He and a few of the others are going to the Longbottoms. He has a few pieces of parchment with him."

Harry hoped dearly that they'd arrive before Voldemort and his Death Eaters did. He didn't know what Hestia meant when she talked about "pieces of parchment," but he didn't ask. She had probably been so vague on purpose.

"The curtains keep us from being overheard but we can't trust them completely," Jones answered his unasked question. She raised her wand and a circle of red light emerged, surrounding them. "This is better. First of all, please do not use You-Know-Who's name."

"Dumbledore says the name too. He told me we shouldn't be afraid of it," Harry responded.

"That's true but there are very real dangers involved here that should be avoided. Names can be put under spells in various ways; the Ministry could cast a spell that lets them know whenever someone uses that name somewhere for example. I'm quite sure they've done something like that to keep track of Dumbledore."

It had never occurred to Harry that this kind of thing might be possible.

"Coming here without informing anyone but the Longbottoms hasn't been very wise," Hestia Jones said. "You know that you are in more danger than others. Most people here are true but we can't be sure about everyone. There is no absolute security."

"There's no absolute security at Privet Drive either," Harry said. "Dementors have attacked me there last summer."

"Yes, I know about that of course. You are still safer if the right people know where you are and can keep an eye on you though. I'm glad I've been on duty tonight."

Harry suppressed a sigh. "Are you going to tell all the others now?"

Jones gave him a long look. "I'll inform those who I'm sure have your best interests at heart. I understand why you're frustrated about Dumbledore's silence. I suggested that I could examine you thoroughly back during the holidays but he disagreed and told us he had his reasons."

Harry frowned. That was so typical for Dumbledore.

"I believe getting a professional examination for this is the right approach," Jones added. "I support your decision and Head Healer Shafiq is highly competent. If someone figures out what's wrong it's him. I'll make sure that a few more trustworthy people have an eye on you while you're here. Discreetly of course."

"Alright," Harry said. The others finding out about it had been inevitable anyway.

"Good, let's return to my professional duty now," Hestia Jones said.

She made Harry describe his dreams and the symptoms he had experienced before and afterwards in detail.

"Alright, that's all for now," she said when Harry had described everything. "I'll give you another cup of Goldberry Leaf Potion now and I hope it'll allow you to sleep."

Harry thanked her and drank the potion. It truly eased the pain in his scar and made him feel more relaxed than he knew he should be given the situation. Soon, he had fallen asleep again, this time free of dreams.

When Harry woke up, he remembered in shock that he didn't know if the Longbottoms had been warned in time. He pulled his curtains slightly apart so he could see what was going on outside.

Latimer was the first person to arrive. He brought a tray full of different potions and administered them to the other patients. Harry remembered Neville's warning and watched him warily. He couldn't discover anything suspicious though. Latimer politely greeted all the patients and spoke a few words to them. The woman with the tentacle injury seemed quite happy to see him and chatted amicably. Abercrombie was more difficult. He didn't want to take his potions and closed his mouth firmly. Latimer managed to persuade him by talking to him calmly alone. Harry wasn't quite sure if he didn't use some form of magic in his voice but that wasn't possible, was it?

When Abercrombie had finally taken his potions, Latimer walked over to Harry. "Good morning, Mr Potter. Mr Shafiq hasn't decided on any medication for you so far. You're supposed to receive Goldberry Leaf Potion as needed."

"Good morning. I don't think I need anything now. I'm feeling fine," Harry said. Compared to the other patients, he really felt out of place here.

"Good to hear it. Mr Longbottom will be here with your food in a minute," Latimer said and left again.

Neville really arrived a little while later and Harry sighed with relief. Nothing seemed to have happened to him.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked when Neville put Harry's porridge and a small stack of books on his bedside table."

"I'm fine, a bit of a short night though." He winked slightly and pulled the curtains around Harry's bed. "Thank you for warning us. Gran has already suspected something like that. She said our wards are safe enough but Professors Lupin and Moody insisted that we'd come with them." He moved closer to Harry and whispered into his ear. "They're trying to make a trap for the Death Eaters. Maybe they'll be able to catch one of them if they try to get in."

"That sounds good," Harry said. Maybe his vision had caused something good after all. "It would be good if they'd catch this Lestrange woman."

"Oh yes," Neville said. "Gran wants to help in person but they don't let me because "I'm too young." Probably don't believe I'd be any good in a fight."

"They want to keep me out of everything too," Harry said.

"I can hardly believe it. We truly met-" Neville clasped his hand across his mouth. "You probably know anyway or so they said. Mum's been right about someone again. Too bad she never got the chance to prove it in time."

Harry understood that Neville had obviously met Sirius.

"He really wants to talk to you and he says you can take the risk with the mirror if you draw the curtains," Neville said.

Harry nodded. "I'll think about it." Sirius had always been rather reckless where communication was concerned but if he talked quietly, he might be able to do it safely. If only he knew Hestia Jones' spell, it had looked very helpful.

The curtains around Harry's bed were pulled apart and a man with sleek, dark blond hair and glasses opened. "Good morning, Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom, Healer Strout needs you." Slightly furrowing his brow, he added: "You're here to help not to spend time with your mate."

"Yes of course, Mr Stebbins," Neville said quickly, a flush of red creeping across his face.

So this was the second Healer in charge of his ward, Harry thought. He didn't think he liked him very much.

Stebbins proceeded to ask Harry about his health and he told him that he was fine and that he had told Healer Jones everything about his nightly health problems. Stebbins nodded and went over to Abercrombie. The Cruciatus curse patient couldn't tell him how he felt of course and Stebbins looked at him swiftly before walking on.

Together with Latimer, he changed the bleeding wizards' bandages and the potions bottle above his bed. Afterwards, Stebbins made a few remarks and Latimer wrote something down. Harry found it relatively boring to watch and opened one of the books Neville had brought. It was titled "Defensive Magic for Aurors Part!" and looked rather promising.

Harry had just begun to read the introduction when Abercrombie began to scream loudly in the bed next to him. Harry looked over at him. The injured wizard was thrashing around in his bed and screamed loudly, his body shaken by convulsions.

Harry wondered if he was supposed to do anything. There were a Healer and a volunteer in the room after all. Stebbins didn't let Abercrombie's problems distract himself from checking the tentacle witch's condition. Latimer quickly looked into the patient's direction but didn't say anything.

Harry decided he wouldn't watch this anymore. "Mr Stebbins, excuse me," he called.

The Healer looked up. "I think Mr Abercrombie here needs help."

Stebbins shrugged and walked over to the agitated patient after telling Latimer what to do with the cursed witch. When he noticed the other man standing beside his bed, Abercrombie's conditions seemed to become even worse.

Stebbins drew his wand. Harry remembered Latimer's warning from the day before but he assumed that the Healer knew what he was doing. He began to point his wand at various parts of Abercrombie's body, always repeating the same, unusually long incantation which was chanted rather than spoken. Sweat trickled down Abercrombie's face and he vomited. Harry felt slightly queasy himself as he witnessed this. He wondered if he should simply drew the curtains around his bed so he didn't need to hear or see what was going on with Abercrombie anymore. He couldn't do anything to help anyway. It seemed somewhat rude and insensitive though.

Stebbins' spells were no use and after about five minutes, he gave up. "This is no use," he told Latimer. "I have other patients to look after, patients who might not be beyond help. Will you make sure he's cleaned up, Latimer?"

"Yes, of course," Latimer said calmly, almost too calmly in Harry's opinion. He would have been angry if someone had addressed him so rudely.

"May I use your part to summon cleaning equipment," Latimer asked Harry.

"Yes, of course."

He drew the curtains to hide his magic from Abercrombie, summoned a cleaning bucket and began to wipe off the mess around Abercrombie's bed without magic. Harry wondered why Latimer put up with this at all. He was an adult wizard, not a Hogwarts student hoping for application benefits. Latimer seemed to be a relatively able wizard as well, he should find work elsewhere. Why did he allow Stebbins to order him around like that?

The Healer left the ward while Abercrombie's fit seemed to become worse and worse. His face had turned an unhealthy blue colour. Latimer put his bucket down and looked at the bell above Abercrombie's bed, obviously thinking. Then he shook his head and approached the patient, similar to the way he had done it in the morning when he had administered the potions. A horrible thought struck Harry: It wasn't possible that Latimer had tampered with the potion, was it? He wished Neville was here. Neville knew much more about the effects of the Cruciatus curse. He could probably tell if something was wrong here. Harry hated the idea that he might witness a crime without understanding or intervening.

Abercrombie didn't seem to notice Latimer's presence and to Harry's surprise, the wizard began to cast the same spell Harry had seen Stebbins use before. Latimer however didn't use his wand. There was something different about the incantation as well, it seemed more, nuanced. The most striking difference however was the patient's reactions. He seemed to relax right away and when Latimer had finished, the fit seemed to have passed. For a moment, Abercrombie looked at Latimer and his gaze seemed more focused than usually than he seemed to drift back into the state Harry had gotten to know him in. The blue colour in his face had vanished completely.

Latimer looked into Harry's direction and noticed the half-opened curtains. "I would prefer it if you didn't tell anyone," he said. "I'm not really supposed to use this kind of magic but I had no choice. I couldn't let him die knowing that I could intervene."

"Well, yes. How come you know how to do this? Stebbins himself didn't manage this spell."

"You're watching attentively," Latimer said.

"I don't really have anything else to do," Harry said.

Latimer smiled. "Yes, of course. Stebbins isn't exactly an expert for the Cruciatus curse. I used to receive Healer's training in the US. I took the oath and everything but I failed Transfiguration three times in the final exam. This way, I couldn't qualify but I haven't forgotten of course. We had quite a few Cruciatus curse patients over there. There were two groups of dark wizards engaged in the illegal potions trade and they liked to torture enemies into insanity to send a message. We had an entire ward for them."

Latimer looked over at Abercrombie. "There are suspicions that one of these groups has branched out to the UK. He is an Auror who was supposed to watch the illegal potions trade in Knockturn Alley undercover. Three weeks in, they found him like this."

"Isn't it more likely that the Death Eaters are responsible for this?"

Latimer shrugged. "The Ministry prefers the other option obviously. As long as Abercrombie doesn't get better, we won't find out. You excuse me; they're probably waiting for me."

"Of course," Harry said and returned to his book. He wasn't sure what to make of all this, a feeling he didn't like at all.

Neville brought his lunch but didn't stay for long. Latimer was in the room as well which made Harry keep the events from earlier to himself. He didn't want him to know that they suspected him of foul play. Harry wasn't sure if this was justified anyway. Abercrombie had returned to his "normal" state again. Latimer giving him a dangerous potion to secretly undo its effects again didn't make much sense.

After lunch, Harry decided to walk around for a bit. If he spent anymore time alone with those severely ill patients, he might get insane himself. The Healers would only return to their next visit before dinner.

Tonks was sitting in front of the door now; together with the pony-tailed Auror Harry had seen on the way to his trial last year. Tonks winked at him and the chatted for a while. Harry wondered if Hestia Jones had asked her to sit duty at Saint Mungo's while he was there. Sharing information about the Order and the events of last night was impossible though. The other Auror, Williamson wasn't a member. Harry was able to ask a few questions about Auror work though which was quite interesting.

"If you believe that Aurors do exciting stuff all the time, you're wrong," Williamson said. "The kind of task you see us doing here is quite common. And we're doing lots of paperwork too."

"Yeah, I was almost a bit disappointed in the beginning," Tonks said. Williamson grinned at her. Maybe some insider between them. "I could have done without the excitement we have now though."

"Couldn't we all?" Williamson said. "I just wish we catch this scum soon. I'd have sworn the Longbottoms' torturers would never see daylight again. I used to be Frank Longbottom's junior partner you see. He was a great Auror, one of the best. And so was his wife, Alice. What they've done to them, it's just-" He didn't finish his sentence.

"Yes, and now they got Dan Abercrombie too," Tonks said. "And he has two young children."

Harry remembered now. Euan Abercrombie had been sorted into Gryffindor at the beginning of his last year at Hogwarts. He had believed all those lies about Harry. Maybe his father would still be sane if he had acknowledged the real danger. No, it was nasty to think like that. There was something else on his mind. "Do you know anything about this Latimer person?"

"Well, he's a Muggle-born," Williamson said. "His parents are British but they migrated to the US and he got his magical education there. Seemingly failed his Healer training but still wants to work in the field. Money doesn't seem to be an issue." He shrugged.

"Alright, thank you," Harry said.

The number of visitors trickling in increased in the afternoon and the two Aurors were busier watching everyone for suspicious behaviour. Harry decided not to distract them anymore and went upstairs to have a piece of cake. He still had some magical money with him and wanted to seize the opportunity to buy something he liked. The patch over his scar worked well. No one seemed to recognise him and for once, Harry didn't face unpleasant stares and whispers. Maybe he'd consider using something similar next time he visited Diagon Alley. It wasn't that far from the hospital. He wondered how Fred and George were doing. Could he go out and pay them a visit? The adults probably wouldn't approve but they didn't need to find out. He was well hidden now. Lupin's words came back to him. "Your parents didn't sacrifice their lives to save yours so you'd throw it away for some magical joke items."

No, doing this would be unreasonable. He'd have to wait until he met with the Weasleys if they wanted to meet him at all. Would Ron and Hermione forgive him? He really should have talked to them.

He finished his chocolate cake and decided that there wasn't much of a choice but to return to the boredom of his ward. By now, he regretted that he had come here. He didn't really hope the Healers would find out anything useful and he hated to sit around doing nothing. Then he remembered that he would have stayed with the Dursleys otherwise and decided that this was better after all.

He walked back downstairs and just reached the fourth floor landing when he noticed a white figure walking through the door. For a moment, Harry thought she was a ghost but then he recognised Neville's mother whose face, hair and clothes all looked white.

Harry looked around. No Healer, volunteer or Neville could be seen anywhere nearby. Harry wasn't sure what to do. Neville's mother surely wasn't supposed to walk off like this.

"Ehm, Mrs Longbottom, shouldn't you go back to your ward?" he finally said.

Mrs Longbottom halted in her track and stared at him, her eyes wide with fear. Half-finished thoughts went through Harry's head. He didn't linger on any of them but wondered if he could lead her back to her ward or if she'd panic if he tried. He probably should call a Healer but there was no bell nearby.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said feeling rather stupid. "I know your son Neville."

She stretched out her arm and grabbed Harry around his own. Harry tensed up involuntarily. He tried to loosen her grip without being too rough but she only held on more strongly and tried to drag him downstairs.

"Mrs Longbottom, you shouldn't go downstairs," he said as clearly as he could but his words seemed to be completely lost on her.

He tried to push her away gently and while at it, he accidently touched the badge on her dressing gown. It seemed to work similar to the bell in the ward, a ringing sound could be hurt. Mrs Longbottom flinched and stumbled. Harry held onto her second arm to keep her from falling down. He hoped that help would arrive soon. He could never forgive himself if something happened to Neville's mother because of him.

To his relief, a Healer soon arrived. It was Miriam Strout, the Healer who hadn't recognised the Devil's Snare in her ward. She had lost a considerable amount of weight and her eyes were deeply lined. Harry could imagine why. She had to blame herself for her mistake.

"Mrs Longbottom, what are you doing? You need to come back," she said kindly. "Hello. I'm sorry dear; I really don't know how she got out. I must have forgotten to lock the door."

Strout tried to lead Mrs Longbottom back to the ward but the ill witch struggled like a little child who didn't want to go away from the sweet shelf.

When Miriam Strout tried to get her to follow with more force, she began to scream and struggle still holding onto Harry's arm. The Healer used a spell to loosen her grip and tried to drag her along but she kept struggling and screaming in a blood-chilling way. Harry feared she might suffer an attack of the kind Mr Abercrombie had had before.

An eternity later as it seemed to Harry, Strout had forced Mrs Longbottom back into her room. Harry could hear her screaming and hammering at the door for a while. Then she fell silent and about five minutes later Miriam Strout came back.

Harry still stood behind the door, shaking slightly. "What did you do to her?"

"She's received a strong calming potion," Strout said. "Panic attacks like this one are part of her illness. Sometimes, she feels threatened by everyone. I'm sorry that you had to watch this."

"There's no need to worry about me," Harry assured her.

He returned to his ward. Abercrombie at least seemed to sleep soundly at the moment. Harry made sure to be quiet so he didn't wake him up and cause a similar attack to him.

He heard something rustling in his pocket. Had he left something there? He put his hand in and retrieved a red bubblegum wrapper. Harry was certain that it hadn't been here before. Mrs Longbottom must have slipped it to him. He stared at the red piece of paper for a while. The colour was almost like the one of the Gryffindor Quidditch robes. He knew that Neville received such a wrapper at every meeting and that he kept them all. Maybe he thought it was a sign of recognition but it didn't seem to be. He gave them to Harry too. Neville wasn't supposed to know this but Harry couldn't bring himself to simply throw the wrapper away either. He put it into a side pocket of his trunk and picked the Auror training book up again.

When Neville arrived with dinner, Harry couldn't get anything down. "I've had cake earlier," he said.

"You don't look well at all," Neville said and sighed. "I hope Shafiq figures it out quickly. This isn't the place for a practically healthy person to stay all day. Dark magic isn't contagious like hospital germs but maybe it still affects a way."

"Yes, maybe," Harry said. He couldn't tell Neville about the meeting with his mother of course. Neville had seen this for all his life. He probably wouldn't even understand why Harry was so upset.

And yet, the idea that there were people out there who could willingly do this to a brave and clever woman with a strong sense of justice was simply incomprehensible. And Voldemort hadn't even ordered it directly.

When everyone inclined so had eaten, Stebbins had checked on them and Latimer had gone as well, Harry drew the curtains around his bed and unwrapped the mirror.

"Sirius, I'd like to talk," he said quietly.

Like it had done on the fateful evening, the mirror glowed and Sirius' face appeared.

"Hello Harry. I've heard you've admitted yourself to Saint Mungo's," he said. "Are you undisturbed?"

"Hello. Yes, the other patients don't understand anything and there's no one else here."

You don't look very well."

"Yes, I know."

"Why didn't you talk to any of us before going there?"

Harry knew now that this had been stupid himself. "I was embarrassed probably. But I simply want to know what's wrong with me."

Sirius sighed. "Well, I understand this in a way. You know I've never approved of Dumbledore's secrecy. If anyone had told you that Hestia is Healer we could have handled this here. I should have done it, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Harry said. "It's not that bad. Better than the Dursleys." He felt the need to defend his decision.

"That's probably not much of an achievement. Anyway, you should have heard the shouting match between Augusta Longbottom and my mother." He grinned. "She's been surprisingly quiet since then."

Harry smiled as well. Augusta Longbottom probably was a witch to match Walburga Black.

"So the Longbottoms are with you now? Did they believe you?"

Sirius sighed. "Well, it took some persuasion but they trusted many of the people who were there so it worked out in the end. Alice has seemingly believed I was innocent and tried to have Crouch review my case."

Harry sighed deeply. "Yes, I've heard of that."

"Did you meet her?" Sirius guessed correctly.

"Yes," Harry said. "She gave me a bubblegum wrapper."

Sirius gave him a long look. "I wonder where she's getting them from. Eating bubblegum isn't very advisable in her condition now, is it?"

Harry had never thought about that. He heard footsteps on the corridor outside. "I think we have to finish now. There's someone coming."

"Alright. Let's stay in touch."

Harry promised it and he was left alone with his thoughts once more. Sirius at least seemed to understand why he had chosen to come here.


	5. Chapter 5 Diagnosis

**AN: **Thank you all for commenting, following and favouriting. Here's the next chapter.

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**Chapter 5  
Diagnosis**

The next few days at Saint Mungo's passed in a way very similar to the first one. Neville brought Harry's meals, Healers asked him questions and checked on him and the other patients suffered from their many ailments.

On the third day, Abercrombie received a visit from his wife and children. Latimer pulled the curtains around Harry's bed before the visitors arrived. This way, Euan wouldn't find out that his fellow student was here. Harry was glad about that. Euan already seemed to think he was mad and Harry didn't want to have him believe he was right.

After the visit, Abercrombie began to talk but the things he had to say didn't make much sense. The only person who listened was Latimer. Harry wasn't sure if that meant what it seemed to mean, that Latimer was one of the few people who actually cared about the patients. It was also possible that he wanted to be the first to find out what the patient had to say. Maybe he knew something that could be harmful for Latimer.

Harry didn't find any answers to this question though. He still thought that Abercrombie's new power over his voice might mean that he was getting better. Neville's parents weren't able to speak at all as far as Harry knew. Harry hoped that Euan and his little sister would have their father back soon but he also wished that there was a chance for the Longbottoms as well. According to both Dumbledore and Miriam Strout, there was nothing to be done for them. At the same time, there was a nagging feeling in the back of Harry's mind that the treatment the Healers gave to the Longbottoms wasn't very helpful. Keeping a person who had been tortured practically imprisoned and force-feed her "calming" potions couldn't be good, could it? To Harry at least, it didn't make much sense.

When he was sure he was alone, he sometimes took the red bubblegum wrapper out of his trunk and looked at it for a while. There was nothing unusual visible about the wrapper but he remembered Sirius' words that it could be quite harmful in her condition. He had plenty of time to think about such things because he barely ventured out of the ward and if he did leave, he only went to meet the Aurors at the door and chat with them for a while. He didn't want to see Neville's mother in this state again or meet any other patients in such a condition.

When Latimer came to him and asked how he was, Harry asked about the wrappers after the obligatory "fine". "You know much about the Cruciatus curse, don't you?"

"I've helped with quite a few patients who've been subjected to this curse, yes," Latimer said. "What is it you want to know?"

"Well, is there any reason to give bubblegum to patients who are sick because of it? Does it help or anything?"

"Bubblegum?" Latimer shook his head. "This isn't advisable at all. These patients' sensory perception is disturbed and they don't realise that a bubblegum is something they aren't supposed to swallow. They might swallow it or even suffocate. Why do you ask such a thing?"

"Well, I've just been wondering," Harry said.

Latimer raised his eye brows. "Well, staying here can make people think about strange things. You might not have to stay for too long anymore. Mr Shafiq asked me to tell you that he wanted to meet you in the consultation room. I think he has figured out what your problem is by now."

Harry jumped to his feet right away. He hadn't expected something like that so soon. Harry hoped that there was an easy way to deal with whatever was wrong with him.

Shafiq looked quite serious as he shook hands with Harry and told him to sit down. "I've heard that you are a very brave young man, Mr Potter," he said. "For the things I have to tell you now, you need to be brave again."

"Mr Latimer told me you know what's wrong with me," Harry said. "It's really bad, isn't it?"

"I won't lie to you, Mr Potter. It is quite bad, yes. Listen carefully. You are familiar with the three Unforgivable curses. This is the kind of dark magic you've learned about at Hogwarts. Destructive, evil but still a part of our natural gift. Some people would disagree with me but I think you understand. Wanting to control others, to hurt them is part of human nature, we are not all good. There are other dark spells, however. Spells where a wizard twists nature to gain something he isn't meant to have. These are the darkest of spells. One of those forms of magic is called a Horcrux. It is a piece of magic that allows a wizard to split his soul and leave the parts in objects or living beings. As long as those are intact, the dark wizard cannot die. That's what You-Know-Who must have done."

Harry needed some time to catch up. "You mean Voldemort left a piece of his soul inside my scar?" The thought was horrible. Harry wasn't yet able to wrap his mind around it completely.

"Yes, by now I'm quite certain that is what happened," Shafiq said. "I don't know why he would do this, the use of living beings as Horcruxes is extremely rare because they're destroyed when the person or animal dies, but he seems to have done this."

"So that means I have to die before Voldemort can be defeated?" Harry asked in horror. "I'm keeping him alive?"

"No, Mr Potter, it doesn't mean that. Yes, You-Know-Who is kept alive by the Horcrux but your death isn't the only possible way to rid you of it and You-Know-Who's death isn't the only possible way to defeat him. I have to warn you at this point though. It is quite possible that there are people out there who believe that this would indeed be the easiest solution. Therefore you need to choose the people you share this information with extremely carefully."

Harry swallowed. This was the last thing he needed. Another reason why people wanted him dead. As if he hadn't enough enemies already. But if he truly had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him, maybe his death would be for the best after all. But he didn't want to die. He wasn't even sixteen yet and there was so much he wanted to do. Become an Auror, have a family of his own one day and so much more. But could that be even possible if Shafiq spoke the truth?

"What does that mean, being a Horcrux? Does Voldemort's soul influence me? Am I dangerous for others?"

"So far, the soul piece doesn't seem to have influenced you much. Your own strength and integrity seems to have protected you well. There are some abilities within your magic pattern that used to belong to You-Know-Who and of course the mental connection between your own mind and his. There is no reason to assume that you are a danger to others if you observe a few things. You must not dabble into the dark arts. This is advisable for the sake of anyone's soul but it's even more important in your case. If you start meddling with Unforgivable curses for example, you open your mind further to him and maybe even your own soul. Secondly, there is a potion used if a witch or wizard is possessed by a dark spirit of any kind. If you take this potion regularly, it will loosen the connection between You-Know-Who's soul part and yourself. And thirdly, you need to practice Occlumency to shield your mind. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I'm really bad at this though. Dumbledore asked Snape to teach me and it didn't go well."

"That doesn't surprise me," Shafiq said. "We need to find someone you're more inclined to trust than Professor Snape and you will have to work on this with discipline. Occlumency is always useful and in your situation even more so."

Harry thought hard. He didn't know how this was supposed to work. There didn't seem to be another Order member who could perform Legilimency and Harry couldn't go to someone else. There were too many secrets of the Order in his head, especially everything concerning Sirius. He couldn't simply let a stranger look into his mind.

"I can't find you an Occlumency teacher right away," Shafiq said. "There are some people who've mastered the art at the Ministry and I as well as some colleagues can do it too. I only want to teach you myself as a last resort though. My schedule barely allows it and it isn't officially part of a Healer's duty. Maybe someone you trust will be able to recommend a suitable person. If not, we'll discuss it again."

"Alright," Harry said. Sirius and Lupin kept insisting that he needed to learn Occlumency as well. They didn't seem to be able to think of someone besides Snape to do it though. Harry didn't like the idea of someone breaking into his mind again but if it was necessary to keep Voldemort's influence at bay, he would do it.

"The thing I will take care of immediately is the potion," Shafiq said. "I'm going to brew it myself and you will stay for two or three more days so we can find the right dose and observe the effects."

Harry sighed. He had hoped he could leave now but knowing what he knew now, it was probably better if he was kept apart under the watchful eyes of the Healers. At least as long as they needed to make sure that the potion truly protected him and others from the part of Voldemort's soul.

"The potion is supposed to keep the soul part from influencing you more and I hope that it will also loosen its grip on you. This way, it will be easier to remove it. I've come across a ritual designed for this kind of purpose but it's not easy and it will take a while to prepare. You will be informed as soon as it can be carried out of course. At the moment, I think it might take about a year."

"Alright," Harry said even though he didn't think anything was alright. He had no choice but to trust Shafiq and hope that his potion and his ritual would really work.

There was one question that bothered him greatly. "Dumbledore should know about this as well, shouldn't he? Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he prepare this ritual himself?"

"I don't know Professor Dumbledore very well," Shafiq said slowly. "Given his extensive knowledge of magic, it is quite likely that he knows. I'd rather believe he doesn't however. If he truly knows, I can't think of any good excuse why he wouldn't inform you and make sure that all the necessary steps to protect you and others are taken."

"He could have organised this ritual long before now. Before Voldemort actually returned," Harry said. If that was true... Why would Dumbledore do something like this?

"I seriously doubt that he knows about this possibility," Shafiq said. "The ritual in question isn't part of British or even European magical tradition. My family originally comes from Egypt and that's where I know it from. Ancient Egyptians witches and wizards were extremely knowledgeable and powerful. Much of it sadly got lost but there are some things that could be preserved including various charms that deal with dark magic infestations. The ritual will need to be modified to work properly on a British wizard such as yourself, that's one of the reasons why we can't do it right away."

Harry didn't understand much of it but he remembered Ron's letter about his family's visit to Egypt. He had been quite impressed by the magic of ancient Egyptian wizards too.

"Alright. But you think it will be possible to get this soul piece out of me eventually?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, I think so. You just need some patience, hard as it is. I have to warn you though; other people might also lack this patience. I'm a Healer and my first priority is to keep my patients alive and in a condition as healthy as possible. This belief isn't shared by everyone. There are also people who don't think that one person matters much in the great scheme of things. You need to be very careful. If Dumbledore knows what has happened to you and keeps it a secret, he probably has a reason for it and I'm afraid this reason isn't to your benefit. He is obsessed with defeating the wizard who's styling himself Lord Voldemort."

He spoke the name without the faintest sign of fear.

"And you don't want to get rid of Voldemort?" Harry asked suspicion and disbelief in his voice.

"Of course I do. I don't think that we should buy into this mythical aura surrounding him however. He is the human leader of a criminal organisation, a powerful and ruthless wizard but not some kind of superhuman entity. That's beside the point at the moment though. I don't know if Dumbledore disagrees or why else he feels so passionately about Voldemort. I do consider it possible that Dumbledore believes, to put it very bluntly, that the quick defeat of You-Know-Who is more important than your survival."

"You mean, Dumbledore might want me to die so Voldemort can be killed?" Harry couldn't believe this. It almost sounded like the things Fudge and Umbridge would say to discredit Dumbledore only clouded in prettier words.

"It's a suspicion, nothing more," Shafiq said. "I know that you and many more of the best students Gryffindor and also Hufflepuff house have sent into the world believe that Dumbledore is the leader and defender of everything good and light. Having to doubt this must be extremely hard for you. I've been a Ravenclaw myself and I'm the father of a Slytherin daughter. This way, I naturally view him in a more critical light and I think we have to take this possibility into account, you have to take this possibility into account."

Harry sat in silence. He was desperately searching for some argument that made Shafiq's words seem impossible. He only knew the Healer for roughly a week at the hospital; Dumbledore had been his headmaster for five years. But how much did he really know about Dumbledore? He was the old man with the beard but had never told him anything about himself. In Shafiq's case, Harry at least knew that he was a pure-blood, had a daughter who was a Slytherin and had Egyptian ancestors. Well, if it was the truth. Dumbledore never shared such things with him. Augusta Longbottom had told him a few times that she trusted Shafiq completely but she also trusted Dumbledore.

"We've all been wondering why Crouch and Dumbledore didn't do anything when the Goblet of Fire spit out your name," Shafiq said. "In Crouch's case we know the reason why by now. His own son put him under the Imperius curse. But Dumbledore? Of course there are ways to break a magical contract that has been made without the consent of the person concerned and against the rules that govern the contract in question. That's why so many people thought you and Dumbledore arranged this to move you into the spotlight. It seemed to be the only plausible reason. I believe that you're not lying but what about Dumbledore?"

Harry had never thought about this. Dumbledore had told him that it was impossible to get out of the tournament after his name had appeared and he had believed it. He hadn't known anything about magical contracts and thus couldn't tell who was right. Was it really possible that Dumbledore had hoped for Harry to die in the tournament, to have Voldemort destroy his own soul piece? It made sense in a way; otherwise, Dumbledore couldn't be as powerful as everyone claimed he was. This would also explain why he avoided Harry as strictly as he did, why he didn't look into his eyes. He couldn't do so because he knew he was responsible for the ordeal Harry had suffered.

"I'm trying to warn you, that's all," Shafiq said. "Try to get as much information as possible from as many sources as possible. Look beyond the things they tell you at Hogwarts, ask people who are still truly involved in old wizarding traditions. Not all of them are evil. You can start with your friend Neville's family."

That, he could definitely do, Harry thought.

"I know, learn as much as you can is a very Ravenclaw thing to advice someone to do but a Gryffindor can benefit from that as well. You shouldn't believe anything at face value. That includes the things I'm telling you as well as those you hear from others. Question, compare and come to your own conclusions, you're old enough for that."

That was something Hemione might tell him as well, Harry thought. He didn't know if she had ever gotten any information about magic that wasn't from teachers, the Hogwarts library or Ron.

"Many adults who were so keen on doing the right thing have failed to do so. Take all those members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. How reasonable is it really to found a secret organisation to hunt someone threatening the community as a whole, take Aurors' attention away from their main work and spend more time on hiding from the legitimate government than fighting your actual enemy? The Ministry under Fudge has done great wrong but they have more reason to be suspicious about Dumbledore than you probably know. His determination that he knew better and had to fight Voldemort independently actually helped our common enemy back in the war."

Harry had never looked at it like this. He understood why Dumbledore didn't trust the Ministry. The reasons were obvious. Dumbledore himself had mentioned how talented Voldemort was in spreading fear and distrust and how they needed to stand together against this. He probably would have acted differently if he could have, wouldn't he?

"Albus Dumbledore has made sure that you grow up far away from other witches and wizards. He probably had his reasons but he had no legitimation whatsoever to do so. Your parents didn't name him your guardian or anything of the sort. Dumbledore has no right whatsoever to make decisions concerning you that extends beyond the duty of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I want you to know that."

"Yes, thank you," Harry said even though he didn't feel very grateful. He had heard so many shocking things. A piece of Voldemort's soul was stuck inside him and caused those visions. The idea made him feel dirty contaminated, not unlike the way he had felt back at Grimmauld Place during the Christmas holidays. He needed to take a potion against this every day so Shafiq could free him of it with some foreign ritual if everything went well. Until then, Harry would have to live with this, this thing inside him.

And to make matters worse, Shafiq obviously didn't trust Dumbledore at all. He suspected that he might plan to have Harry die, that he might have tried to get him killed during the Triwizard Tournament on purpose.

"I know this is much to bear," Shafiq said. "I wouldn't have told you I hadn't been confident that you have the strength to do so. You are no child; you are a young man facing a very difficult situation. A young man who can only make the right decisions if he has as much information as possible."

"Thank you for telling me the truth," Harry said and this time he did mean it. "It's quite new for me."

Mrs Weasley would probably be shocked if she heard that he knew about this. She always believed that his fragile nerves couldn't cope with the more serious facts of life. He was glad that Shafiq at least didn't treat him like a child and he would do his best to act in a way that didn't make him look like one.

When Harry returned to the ward, Latimer met with him in front of the door. "Would you allow me to introduce you to Mr Abercrombie? I think he would be more comfortable if he knew who the other people in his ward are."

Harry shrugged. "I don't think he's very fond of me but if you think it'll help him. So he's well enough to understand something like this again?"

"Yes, he is. Otherwise, I wouldn't suggest this."

Harry was quite glad about the distraction. If Latimer was right, Abercrombie probably wasn't too bad anymore. If Shafiq wasn't a very big hypocrite, he wouldn't tell others about the soul piece. Harry really hoped so. Otherwise, he'd be in very big trouble but at the moment, he still dared to hope that the Healer's integrity was genuine.

Mr Abercrombie still looked extremely pale and shaken but his gaze had become much more focused.

"Mr Abercrombie, this is Mr Potter. He's staying in the bed next to yours," Latimer said.

"Hello, pleased to meet you," Harry said in an attempt to be polite.

Abercrombie's eyes wandered to Harry's forehead right away. "Harry Potter?" he asked his voice small and very hoarse. "Where is the scar?"

"It's covered up. Mr Potter doesn't want everyone to know he's here. I have to ask you to keep this to yourself as well. We don't want any unnecessary attention."

"Yes, of course. I'm an Auror. Never share information with too many people," Abercrombie said.

Harry looked at Abercrombie unsure what to say. He wanted to know who had tortured him of course but he didn't think this was something he could ask just like that.

"Do you still believe You-Know-Who's back?" Abercrombie asked.

"Yes, I know he's back. I saw him. The Ministry knows as well by now," Harry said.

"Really? Well, there has to be some reason why those Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban." Harry had to lean close to understand anything at all.

"Maybe you shouldn't strain your voice too much, Mr Abercrombie," Latimer said. "Your colleagues will be here soon to ask you a few questions."

"Yes, of course. I didn't see their faces. Wore masks. A woman and a man with an Eastern accent. Might have been Dolohov and the Lestrange woman but I can't tell for sure. Attacked me from behind, there was nothing I could do."

"No one's blaming you because you've been attacked," Latimer assured him.

"You remind me of that oath breaker, back when he was still here," Abercrombie said. "Saved me, didn't you?"

If Latimer's blank expression was anything to go by, this statement didn't make more sense to him than it did to Harry. "I don't know who you're talking about at the moment. I'm not that familiar with the history of Saint Mungo's. I'm glad you feel that the things I did helped you."

"They did and I'm sure you know that," the wounded Auror said.

Harry wondered how talented Latimer truly was. Could it be possible that he had learned something about treating the after effects of the Cruciatus curse that the Healers at Saint Mungo's didn't know? Shafiq had told him about different knowledge in different countries only a little while ago. Was there a chance for the Longbottoms after all?

"I think you should rest now," Latimer said to his patient. "Your colleagues will be here soon. Tell me if you need anything."

Abercrombie nodded and let his head sink back into his cushions.

"May I ask you something?" Harry looked at Latimer.

"Of course," the volunteer said and sat down beside Harry's bed drawing the curtains around them. "It's better if Mr Abercrombie doesn't listen. If he hears something he doesn't understand, it might be harmful at this point."

"Do you know who he meant by "oath breaker"?"

"I have no idea but I assume that there must have been some Healers who shared You-Know-Who's beliefs and valued them more highly than their oath," Latimer said. "It's normal that a person in his situation is somewhat suspicious. One mustn't take that personally."

"I see. There's something else I actually wanted to ask you. You know about Neville's parents, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. I've worked in their ward as well. Mr Potter, I'm a man who didn't even pass his healing exam. I'm not able to work miracles. The Longbottoms have been here for more than ten years, this is a situation that can't be compared to Mr Abercrombie's."

"Yes, of course," Harry said. He hoped he didn't sound too childish. "But do you think the treatment they get at the moment is right?"

"I'm not in a position to judge this and I don't know enough about their situation to be able to do so. The young Mr Longbottom isn't overly fond of me as you probably know. His mother reacted very badly to my presence. Trust or lack thereof is extremely important in this case. I probably couldn't help her even if it was possible."

Harry nodded. "It's probably been stupid to ask."

"No, it's not stupid at all," Latimer said. "Keeping your eyes open is quite right and I can't assure you that the Longbottoms couldn't receive better treatment. Mrs Longbottom at least tries to communicate with the people around her in some way. If she had someone she trusts who'd listen, this person might achieve something. The Healers don't have the time for this though. There's so much work to do and it won't become less now."

"So you think there might be some hope for her?"

"As long as the patient is alive, there's never no hope," Latimer said. "I'm not familiar enough with her situation to tell you if improvement is likely or not." He looked at his watch. "I'm sorry but the Aurors will arrive soon and I'll accompany them to Mr Abercrombie. I have to leave now."

"Alright," Harry said. He understood this of course.

A few minutes later, Kingsley entered the ward, accompanied by a tale witch. Harry thought she might be the one he had seen in the cubicle next to Kingsley's before his hearing. She didn't seem to need an eye patch anymore; the wound probably had been healed. Kingsley gave Harry a quick nod before the two Aurors and Latimer vanished behind Abercrombie's curtains.

Harry couldn't understand a single word they were saying and the discussion with Shafiq forced itself back into his mind.


End file.
